“…You said you wouldn’t leave.”
“…I-I almost said that.”
Seo-jun quickly changed the subject.
“There are a few things I wanted to ask about martial arts techniques. Could you spare some time later?”
“Of course… Feel free to visit me anytime.”
*****
Seo-jun, now unofficially serving as Chun-bong’s mental health counselor, was deep in thought.
‘Chun-bong’s condition isn’t great…’
It wasn’t surprising, really. If something could be shaken off so easily, it wouldn’t be called trauma.
But Seo-jun wasn’t an expert in mental health. He had no clue how to fix it.
What he did know, however, was martial arts—and he knew them well enough to be considered a master.
‘Once she reaches the Peak Level, things will get better.’
Balancing Essence (Jeong), Qi (Gi), and Spirit (Shin) wasn’t just some technical achievement—it influenced everything about a martial artist, including their mental state.
Seo-jun knew this firsthand. After reaching the Peak Level, his own mind had become noticeably more stable.
‘She’s already prepared to attempt the Life-and-Death Resonance Technique .’
Not only Chun-bong but also Namgung Su-a could meet the conditions.
But in theory, there was one major side effect to the technique.
“You need an epiphany to ascend to the Peak Level.”
Specifically, failing to achieve that epiphany meant death. Without breaking through the Gate of Life and Death , Qi would reverse flow, Essence and Spirit would shatter, and—if they were lucky—they’d simply explode into a bloody mist.
“But if you use the Life-and-Death Resonance Technique to break through, you skip that epiphany.”
In simpler terms, it was like skipping a crucial power-up event.
“And why is that a problem?”
Namgung Su-a tilted her head.
“You can still gain enlightenment after reaching the Peak Level, can’t you?”
“Well… technically, yeah.”
“Doesn’t that make it easier to grasp enlightenment later?”
“…Also true.”
Correction. It wasn’t skipping the power-up event—it was just rearranging the order.
Being at a higher level naturally gave you a broader view of the world, making it easier to achieve enlightenment later.
“Anyway, here’s what I’m getting at.”
Normally, someone who reached the Peak Level through conventional methods would start at the initial phase of that realm.
But those who broke through using the Life-and-Death Resonance Technique often didn’t quite reach that point.
“It’s like… a sub-Peak Level, I guess.”
The name sounded lame, but Seo-jun wasn’t great at naming things.
He recited the Life-and-Death Resonance Technique’s
mnemonic formula to Chun-bong and Namgung Su-a, even handing them written copies.“You need to memorize this word for word. One slip-up, and you’re done for. I’ll be supervising, but still—got it?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Namgung Su-a smiled brightly. Chun-bong, on the other hand, nervously clutched his sleeve.
“You’re giving us this because you’re planning to leave for the Demonic Cult, aren’t you…?”
Even as she said it, Chun-bong felt frustrated with herself. She knew she was holding him back, and that wasn’t good for anyone.
But the fear wouldn’t go away. What if Seo-jun really disappeared this time?
Ever since she’d seen his body explode, Chun-bong had been haunted by nightmares—visions of Seo-jun dying in countless horrific ways.
Exploding, being beheaded, poisoned, or simply vanishing without a trace.
Her breathing grew ragged as she gripped his sleeve even tighter.
“Don’t go anywhere….”
“My poor Chun-bong.”
Seo-jun lifted her up and gently rocked her in his arms.
It seemed like he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off Chun-bong until her condition improved.
“Anyway, Su-a, get ready. We’ll start soon.”
“Got it. And Chun-bong—”
“No need to worry so much. Chun-bong’s strong. Aren’t you?”
“…No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“…I said I’m not.”
Seo-jun knew her better than she knew herself.
When Chun-bong could confidently retort with her usual sharp tongue, he knew she’d finally be back to her old self.
*****
Seo-jun carried Chun-bong piggyback as they headed to Geumju Hall.
They were going to check out the spiritual artifacts Jin Ga-wi had mentioned earlier.
“Oh, Young Master, you’re here.”
The steward greeted him warmly and exchanged brief pleasantries before leading him to the storage room.
“We scoured the central plains with all available resources, but as expected, finding spiritual artifacts wasn’t easy.”
“Well, it’s not like items with ‘divine’ properties are just lying around.”
“Ha, you’re absolutely right. We only managed to acquire six.”
“…Wait, what?”
Seo-jun’s eyes widened as they entered the storage room, which was meticulously organized with weapons. The aura radiating from them was anything but ordinary.
As Seo-jun curiously examined the surroundings, Jin Ga-wi walked past the displayed weapons and led him deeper inside.
“Wait, aren’t these the artifacts?”
“No, these are just ordinary famous swords.”
“Ordinary” famous swords? Could something called a famous sword even be considered ordinary?
‘Well, I guess it’s the Namgung Clan we’re talking about.’
Seo-jun scratched his head and followed the steward, who began carefully dismantling a complex formation protecting the innermost section of the storage.
Clunk—
A hidden chamber revealed itself. Inside, over a dozen weapons were displayed, each exuding an overwhelming presence.
“This way.”
The steward guided Seo-jun to a specific section, where four swords, a piece of clothing, and a scabbard were laid out.
“…What’s all this?”
Clothes and a scabbard? Seo-jun scratched his head, prompting the steward to chuckle.
“Spiritual artifacts aren’t limited to weapons. They’re items imbued with mysterious abilities. Anything can qualify.”
The steward began listing their origins.
“This sword was wielded by the Iron Steel Swordmaster three hundred years ago. We recently acquired it from Guizhou.”
“Acquired?”
“Yes. Fortunately, the previous owner was satisfied with a few gold ingots.”
“How many?”
“A gold ingot… or a few gold ingots, to be exact?”
Even a single gold ingot was enough to buy almost anything. Most commoners rarely even saw a silver coin, which took fifty nyang of silver to exchange for a silver ingot. And this wasn’t silver—it was gold.
“Hmm.”
While Seo-jun was busy mentally calculating and failing at basic math, the steward continued his explanation.
“The ability itself is rather simple. Even if the blade breaks, it regenerates over time. Of course, if it’s snapped in half, it might take years to fully restore, so it’s not exactly an extraordinary feature.”
“I see…”
“And as for these swords…”
The steward summarized their features one by one:
A regenerating sword. A sword with a particularly sharp edge. A sword that splits into two and reassembles itself. And… a demonic sword? “What?”
A demonic sword?
Intrigued, Seo-jun looked closer, and the steward nodded with satisfaction.
“It’s not actually related to demons. However, the sword has a slight consciousness and is said to influence its wielder’s mind.”
“…Why would you even bring something like this?”
“Well, if you can handle it, it performs far better than most spiritual artifacts. It’s perfect for you, Young Master.”
“…Why does a demonic sword suit me?”
Despite his skepticism, Seo-jun reached out and gripped the sword.
Woom—
A low hum resonated from the blade, and a faint voice echoed in his mind.
[Accept my will and—what?! No! Stop!]
Silence.
Seo-jun tapped the blade, and it vibrated as if wagging its tail.
“…Seriously?”
“Just as expected.”
“…Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Absolutely.”
The steward, clearly pleased, then pointed to a set of clothes hanging on the wall.
“These were woven from Heavenly Silkworm Thread. They don’t have any outstanding abilities, but the sleeves can unravel and reattach themselves. When infused with Qi, they become durable enough for both defense and offense.”
“And this scabbard?”
The steward coughed awkwardly and stroked his short mustache.
“…To be honest, I hesitated to show this one.”
He picked up a sword and inserted it into the scabbard.
Click—
Though the sword and scabbard didn’t quite match in size, the blade fit snugly inside, thanks to the scabbard’s spiritual properties.
“This scabbard can change the appearance of any sword placed inside it.”
“…Wait, doesn’t that make this the best item here?”
A scabbard that could alter a sword’s appearance? That practically made it a Swiss Army knife for weapons.
“Well, it only changes the handle and the guard.”
“Oh. Never mind.”
So it was just for show.
Seo-jun clicked his tongue but then had an idea.
“Hold on a second.”
Taking the scabbard, Seo-jun inserted the demonic sword into it.
Woom—!
The demonic sword resisted briefly, but it didn’t matter. Seo-jun focused his imagination, and moments later, the sword’s handle transformed into an ornate design.
“Oh…!”
Golden dragons coiled around the guard, giving it an imperial look. It resembled the swords used by royalty.
“I love this!”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. This is perfect for shady business.”
“…Excuse me?”
The steward blinked in surprise as Seo-jun grinned and grabbed the scabbard, the demonic sword, and the Heavenly Silkworm Thread clothes.
“Can I just take these with me?”
“Of course. They were prepared specifically for you.”
“Awesome.”
Seo-jun laughed gleefully.
Then, Chun-bong, who had been clinging to his back, leaned in and whispered,
“You’re planning something weird again, aren’t you?”
“Obviously.”
“…Just don’t do anything dangerous.”
“…What?!”
Seo-jun’s eyes widened.
This was bad. Chun-bong’s condition was serious—so serious that she was worried instead of nagging.
“Steward, I think I need to leave right away.”
After bidding the steward farewell, Seo-jun hurried back to his room, carrying Chun-bong.
“Stand straight, Chun-bong!”
“…Why?”
She reluctantly stood in a stiff posture, pouting as she did.
Seo-jun smiled despite himself, lifted her up briefly, then set her down.
“How long are you planning to stick to me like glue?”
“Forever?”
“…Hmm. That doesn’t sound too bad.”
Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.